


Call Me

by blueraven1340



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-06-24 01:31:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15619494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueraven1340/pseuds/blueraven1340
Summary: Sirius has just experienced the worst night of his life, but maybe his luck will turn around with one botched phone call. Who is this Remus Lupin, anyway?





	1. Coming Home

“Hello?”

Sirius held the phone closer to his ear. A man’s voice. He hadn’t expected that, but maybe muggle telephones altered people’s voices somehow. He goddamned hoped so.

“Hello?” he said. “Evans? This is Lily Evans, right? Please tell me I’ve got the right phone or I’m going to lose my fucking mind, I swear to Merlin and his children and their children and –!”

“Er,” said the man – possible woman – on the phone. “I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong number. I don’t know of any Evans. Sorry.”

“Great,” Sirius said. He laughed. “Bloody fantastic. I’ve got the wrong _number_.” He leaned against the payphone, trying not to wince. Well, not like anyone was watching.

“There must be a way to get the right one. Do you happen to know how?”

A pause on the other side.

“Look, this might sound strange, but are you…a wizard?”

Sirius frowned at the telephone. He put it back by his ear, the way Peter had taught him to.

“Yes,” he said. “Are you?”

He heard a sharp intake of breath. Another pause.

“Yes.”

For the first time that day, Sirius felt something like hope flare in his chest.

“Brilliant!” he said. “In normal circumstances, I’d ask why the bloody hell a wizard is answering a muggle telephone, but these aren’t normal circumstances, so I’ll skip to the important bits. You’ve got an owl, haven’t you? Can you send a letter to James Potter saying –”

He paused. What did he want to say to James? That he’d run away, that he was never going back, that his bitch of a mother snapped his wand in two, that his wanker of a brother did nothing as she tortured him right before his eyes?

He squeezed his eyes shut. The garish orange streetlight still managed to find its way into his corneas.

“Say I need a place to kip tonight. Maybe forever. No – leave that part out. Say…for the summer. I need a place to stay for the summer, if they’ll have me. Send that to James Potter. I’m Sirius Black. Sirius, like the star, and yeah, that’s my real name. He’ll need to pick me up. I’m…fuck, where am I?”

Sirius looked around, as if some bright, glowing sign would pop up somewhere. He was still in London – he knew that much. And he couldn’t have gotten too far from Grimmauld Place, but he was a fast runner. Would’ve been faster if he wasn’t bruised and bleeding all to hell.

“I’m…in London. Not too far from my house? Fuck…”

“Um –”

Sirius paused. The stranger didn’t go on. Merlin, these telephones were a pain.

“What?” Sirius said, finally.

The other man answered in a rush.

“You can come to my place, if you want. I’m in London as well, and we’ve got a Floo you can use. I don’t know how far away you are, of course, but if you happen to be close…”

Sirius blinked. This man couldn’t be serious. _No, of course not,_ I’m _Sirius_ …

Stop. This wasn’t the time for jokes.

He cleared his throat.

“How do I know you’re not a muggle? Or pervert? Or both?”

A pause.

“What about you? How do I know you’re not some sort of mass murderer?”

“I’m not a mass murderer,” Sirius said. “I prefer regular old murder, myself. Much more personal.”

Heavy silence. He could have kicked himself.

“You’re not exactly the fastest broom in the shed, are you?”

Sirius gripped the phone tighter to his ear.

“Excuse me?!”

Laughter.

“My address is Number 6, Kensington Avenue,” said the rude stranger. “And I’m Remus, by the way. Remus Lupin.”

“Fuck you, Remus Lupin. If that’s even your real name. Honestly, what kind of a name is that? If you’re going to make something up for yourself, go with the first bloody king of Rome, not his dead twin. That’s just common sense, really.”

Another pause.

“Sirius Black, was it? I look forward to meeting you, Sirius. If you manage to find my house, that is.”

“Oh, I’ll find it, all right. Don’t you worry.”

“I’ll try my hardest. See you soon.”

With that, the phone cut off. Sirius stared at the grimy, greasy piece of plastic in his hand. No matter how far away Kensington Avenue was, he swore in that moment that he was going to find this Remus Lupin. And he was going to kill him.

 

It took about an hour. First, Sirius had to figure out where the bloody hell he was. Some place called Newton Lane. Then, he had to ask random, seedy-looking muggles where he could find Kensington Avenue. Not many of them were exactly eager to help. He found a bathroom mirror at some point, and he couldn’t say he looked very trustworthy.

He had an awful black eye and busted lip. Dried blood matted the left side of his face, ruining his beautiful, black locks, and he knew the rest of him didn’t look any prettier. He took the effort to wash his face, and that fixed him up somewhat. It only hurt like hell. Scowling, he looked back in the mirror.

He should’ve killed his mother. He should’ve dragged Regulus with him.

Should’ve. Would’ve. Could’ve.

He went back out on the hunt. People were a bit more receptive to him after that. They were still wary, though, and it was odd having people draw away so quickly from him like that, because of his looks. Usually, that’s what hooked them in.

When he finally made it to Number 6, Kensington Avenue, Sirius felt the beginnings of doubt creep in. What if this ‘Remus Lupin’ actually was a perv? Or muggle? Or murderer? What could Sirius do? He didn’t even have his wand. He might as well have been naked.   

He shook his head. He was Sirius Black. If he could face his parents, however poorly, he could do anything.

He walked up a quaint, stone pathway, past a neatly trimmed yard. The lights were on. That was a good sign, right?

He knocked on the front door.

Someone answered almost immediately.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

Sirius took a deep breath.

“It’s me,” he said. “Sirius Black.”

A pause on the other side. Eventually, however, he heard the lock click, and finally, the door opened.

From the sound of his voice, Sirius had expected some swotty kid his age, maybe a bit older. Instead, he got a swotty, middle-aged man with a slight pudge and piercing green eyes. Sirius had never been very tall, but this man would have towered over his father, even.

He stood as straight as his pain allowed.

“You’re Sirius Black?” the man said.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. The voice had changed once again. Muggle telephones really were a pain in the arse.

“Yes,” he said. “Are you Romulus?”

The man looked confused for a second. After a pause, his face cleared.

“You mean Remus?” he said.

“Yes.” Sirius peered at the tall man. “And you are…?”

“Remus’ father.”

Sirius felt a twinge of disappointment. He hadn’t come all this way for the father. Technically, he hadn’t come all this way for Remus either.

Remus’ father cleared his throat importantly.

“I understand you’ve come to use our Floo?” he said.

Sirius started to nod, but then stopped at the pounding in his head.

“Yes,” he said.

“How do you know Remus?”

Sirius wished he had something to lean against. It hadn’t been an easy night, after all. A wave of fatigue washed over him, stayed only by the absurdity of this man’s question.

“How do I know Remus?” he said. “He has a rather pleasant timbre to his voice, if you listen hard enough, and I bet he looks enough like you, if you really are who you say you are.”

“What about you, Mr. Black? What is the supposed heir of one of the oldest pureblood families doing here in the middle of the night?”

Shit. This guy really was a wizard, probably a pureblood at that. Sirius’ flat-out panic had abated with Remus’ phone call, but now, he felt it starting to return.

“Look, Mr. Lupin…”

“Lyall!”

A woman appeared beside Mr. Lupin, probably Remus’ mother. She had honey-brown hair bunched up into a curly mess, and her flowy, blue nightgown made her look almost ethereal. He wondered why someone like her ever married ‘Lyall’.

“Hope, I told you stay in the living room,” Lyall said.

Mrs. Lupin ignored this.

“Lyall, look at the poor boy!” she said. “This isn’t the time to be asking questions.”

Lyall gave her a look, which, despite his situation, Sirius sort of had to agree with. With Polyjuice, he could have been anyone; although, why anyone would choose to impersonate him at the moment, he had no idea.

Mrs. Lupin ignored this as well and pushed past Lyall.

“Sirius, is it?” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Come inside, Sirius. I think you could do with a nice cuppa.”

Sirius stood, dumbfounded. So did Lyall.

Mrs. Lupin gestured them both back inside.

“Come on, you two,” she said.

Sirius moved first. Relief rushing through him, he took a step forward, and he could have laughed at his luck, he could have cried. But as black spots flickered in his vision, all he could do as he crossed the threshold into the Lupin Household was close his eyes and crash.

 

Sirius was on the floor, screaming. His mother stood above him. He couldn’t see, but he knew, and his father was laughing, the portraits were laughing, Regulus was laughing. It filled his head, the pain that was not pain, the dark around him. The Tapestry Room was burning, and he could see himself in the flames, reaching out to Regulus who was trying to put out the fire with his tears.

The idiot.

Sirius opened his eyes. Light stabbed at him, and for a second, he thought he actually was burning. Crying out, he flailed and rolled out of the bed. He crashed onto the floor, cursing loudly.

The door burst open.

“What happened?” said a man’s voice.

Wincing, Sirius sat up. He was in an unfamiliar room. It was barely large enough for the bed he’d just toppled out of, that and a nightstand. The afternoon sun shone through not-curtained-enough windows, and it was in this light that Sirius first saw Remus Lupin.

He was swotty, like his father. A gangly teenager who wore a cardigan that matched the sea-green of his eyes. He had a light spread of freckles and tousled, bronze hair, as well as long, pale scars across his face.

Interesting. Cute. Not his type.

“Are you all right?” the boy said.

Sirius realized he was staring. He looked away.

“Yeah.”

He got up, which was surprisingly easy, considering the last time he remembered standing. Someone had healed him.

“Where am I?”

The boy quirked an eyebrow. “Nice to meet you too,” he said. “I’m Remus, by the way. The one you spoke with on the phone.”

“Romulus, was it? Where the fuck am I?”

Remus leaned on the doorframe, rolling his eyes.

“My house. And if you’re wondering who healed you, you’re looking at him.”

Sirius looked Remus up and down.

“You?”

Remus’ lips twitched.

“Me,” he said. “But to be honest, it was more of a family effort. Dad actually did most of it. I just got rid of some bruises.”

Absently, Sirius reached up to touch the area around his eye. It felt perfectly fine. He looked at Remus in a new light.

“Thanks,” he said.

Remus blinked.

“You’re welcome.”

There was a short, awkward silence. Remus pushed off the doorframe.

“The Floo’s downstairs,” he said. “Probably best if you left sooner rather than later. My dad’s not very keen on having strangers in the house.”

Sirius ran a hand through his depressingly lank locks of hair. He needed a shower, fast.

“Sure,” he said.

“Follow me then.”

Sirius followed Remus out of the closet-like room and into the hallway. It was lined with muggle pictures of the three Lupins – Lyall, Remus, and Mrs. Lupin all staring with frozen smiles, like the posters he kept up in his room at Grimmauld. Remus noticed him looking, but didn’t say anything.

As they reached the stairs, Sirius took the initiative.

“Haven’t seen you around Hogwarts, have I?” he said.

“I don’t suppose you have.”

“Do you go to a different school, then? Beauxbatons, maybe?”

“Beauxbatons?”

“You look like the prim and proper type.”

Remus gave him half a glance.

“Do I?”

Sirius stared.

They reached the living room. It was empty like the rest of the house, but Sirius didn’t much care. Lyall had looked ready to throw him to the wolves, and while he was grateful to Mrs. Lupin, he’d never really been good at saying thanks.

They stopped at the fireplace.

“This is me, then,” Sirius said.

“Yeah.”

Sirius stuffed his hands in his pockets. He couldn’t stop looking at Remus. There was something about the boy that intrigued him. Not the way Gideon or the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team intrigued him, but like a weird book did, one he’d found hidden off in the Restricted Section of the library. Forbidden, forgotten. Just itching to be read.

He tilted his chin up.

“Listen, we should meet up again sometime,” he said. “I reckon I owe you a bite to eat, at least.”

Remus’ eyes widened. It was his turn to look Sirius up and down. For some reason, maybe because of the shitty night he’d just had, this made him feel a bit self-conscious. He ran another hand through his unwashed hair. It didn’t help.

Remus smiled. At what, he wasn’t sure.

“All right.”

 

“ _Remus_ Lupin?”

Sirius lay in the Potters’ guest bedroom, smoking a muggle fag. He was frowning at the ceiling, which had a bright red painting of a motorcycle. He’d drawn it there himself last summer, using his foot and James’ _levicorpus_.

He sighed out white smoke.

“I know, mate,” he said. “Told him he should’ve gone with Romulus instead.”

James laughed. He was sitting beside him on the bed, legs crossed. The wanker had on his favorite pyjamas.

“But that’s his actual name?”

“I’m telling you, it is!”

“And what’s he like, this Remus Lupin?”

Sirius waved his hand, flinching when ash fell on him.

“A total swot, and a sharp one at that. I mean, he’s a nice enough bloke, I suppose, but you know how I feel about nice blokes.”

James shrugged.

“You could do with a nice bloke.”

“I’ve got Peter, haven’t I?”

“I’m sure he’d be overjoyed to hear that.”

Sirius barked out a laugh. “I reckon he’d piss his pants, actually. Could you imagine?”

“I’d rather not,” James said, though he laughed too.

“It’d be like when Mary asked him out in third year. D’you remember?”

“Course I do! Proudest moment of my life.”

“That’s the most depressing thing I’ve heard all day.”

James shoved him. “Well, it _would_ have been bloody historical if Pete hadn’t choked.”

“Yeah, mate, but he did.”

“Reckon Mary still hasn’t forgiven him for that.”

“I reckon you’re right.”

Laughing, James lay down beside him. They both stared at Sirius’ motorcycle painting and the smoke from his fag.

“Lucky he was there, though, that Remus,” James said.

Sirius sighed. “Yeah. Dunno if Evans would’ve been nearly as helpful.”

“She would’ve. Maybe.”

“Mate, she hates me almost as much as she hates you.”

“She doesn’t hate me.”

“She hates you.”

“She doesn’t! We’ll be dating by the end of this year, just you wait.”

“I’ve _been_ waiting, Prongs.”

“She almost said yes last time! If only Snivellus hadn’t butted in…”

Sirius scowled. The room seemed to darken, and in the ceiling above, he didn’t see his bright-red motorcycle anymore. Instead, he saw a shimmering chandelier and his mother’s contorted face.

“Snivellus,” he spit out. “I bet you anything it was him.”

James fell quiet. He didn’t have to say anything.

Sirius had arrived at the Potters’ just that morning. They welcomed him with open arms, which, even after all these years, still touched him more than he’d care to admit. The guest room already had some of his clothes, magazines, and odd knickknacks. The walls were even decorated with random pictures he, James, and Peter had taken over the years.

It felt more like home than Grimmauld had ever been. The second he stepped inside, he closed the door and just cried. He cried, showered, slept, and ate. No one asked questions, though they’d seen the blood on his clothes and his missing wand. Euphemia hugged him, Fleamont told him he was there to talk, if he ever needed it, and James…well, James was James.

Sirius stared up at the ceiling.

“They found out I’m bent.”

James looked at him. “What’d they do?”

His voice was steady, fierce. Sirius closed his eyes.

“What do you think?” he said. “She went mad. Said I’d always been a disgrace and all the usual rubbish. You’d think I’d be used to that by now, but it just drove _me_ mad. I mean, who the fuck does she think she is? Her and her bloody Death Eater friends – they’re the pieces of shit mucking up the wizarding world. Filth like her should just go die and leave me the fuck alone.”

Sirius opened his eyes. He took a long draw from his fag.

“She used _crucio_ on me. Father spared me with the usual, and Reg…”

He thought of Regulus watching, silent, his eyes wide with unvoiced horror. He thought of trying to hold in his screams, so that his little brother would sleep at night.

He sighed.

“I’m not going back, James,” he said. “Not this time.”

James bolted upright.

“Too right!” he said.

Sirius blinked as James looked down at him, his hazel eyes, well, serious.

“I wouldn’t let you go back even if you tried. I love you, mate, and that family of yours – they can rot in hell, for all I care. I’m your family, Sirius. Me, Pete, and my parents. You belong with us. You always have.”

Sirius stared. Slowly, he felt a grin cross his face. He didn’t have words. Clearing his throat, he sat up and snuffed out his fag. He glanced at James.

“Is that a proposal, Prongs?” he said.

James smiled, those hard eyes turning warm. “Of course it is. You better accept before I go running off with Evans.”

Sirius barked out a laugh. “As if that’d ever happen!”

James pretended to look offended.

“It’s going to happen!” he said. “I’m telling you, this year’s the year, mate!”

Sirius shook his head.

“You’re hopeless.”

“Just you wait,” James said. He slung an arm over Sirius’ shoulders. “This time next year, we’ll be going on double dates, me with Lily, and you with that Remus fellow.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Sod off!” he said.

James laughed.


	2. Coffee Shop Talk

“Hello.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. He looked at Remus in the dim light of his fag.

“Hey,” he said.

Remus smiled. He was wearing a dark, long-sleeve shirt with light trousers, which was all Sirius could make out in the near-complete darkness. The boy looked completely unruffled by the fact he’d just climbed out his window and down a fucking tree. Sirius was trying to look much the same.

“So, where do you want to go?” Remus said. He spoke quietly, adding to the mystery of this whole thing. Sirius shrugged.

“You know the area better than me,” he said.

“All right.”

Remus seemed to think for a second, then he jerked his head.

“Follow me.”

They started off into the moonless night, side by side. Neither of them said anything. It didn’t seem right to, seeing as how it was half past midnight. The small neighborhood was silent with deep slumber. Sirius wondered what Remus had in store.

Sirius had called a few days ago. It had been a week after he left. Peter had swung by, since he’d finally come back from his trip to France. Sirius told him the full story, minus the bits about getting tortured, and after, he helpd Sirius buy a muggle phone in London. Remus had probably expected a letter, but Sirius never liked to do the expected. They had to visit Diagon Alley to get him a new wand anyway.

James and Peter both listened in on the call, irritatingly enough, but it turned out all right. Except for the part where Remus wanted to meet up in the dead of night.

Sirius wasn’t one to refuse theatrics, or trouble, but this did seem a bit weird. James and Peter agreed, but it only seemed to increase their excitement about the whole thing. Sirius felt it too, sort of. At the very least, he didn’t question the odd request, and now that he was in the thick of it, he found himself being grateful he hadn’t.

Walking off into the unknown, in the dead of night with an interesting stranger and a pack of smokes? This was the sort of thing Sirius lived for.

They finally reached a lively part of town. Cars sped past, hurrying even now, and shops were bright and welcoming. People, drunk and sober, walked past, not hurrying at all.

Sirius flicked away the remains of his fag. “So, where are we going?” he said.

Remus glanced at him.

“Angelica’s. It’s a twenty-four hour coffee shop.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows.

“A coffee shop?”

“No good?”

“It’s not that.” It sort of was, but what else had he expected? The bloody swot. Sirius looked around. “Just figured we were going to a pub or something.”

“I’m underage.”

“So am I, but one good Confundus should take care of that.”

Remus gave him a look.

“Again, I’m underage. Aren’t you as well?”

“I can’t pass for seventeen?”

“It’s not a matter of passing, is it?”

“People do so much magic around here, the Ministry won’t notice one spell. I’ve done it before.”

Remus looked over at him, and he might have been swotty, but his black sweater and those old, faded jeans did more for him than that bloody cardigan ever had.

“I’m not going to a pub, Sirius,” he said.

It felt odd having Remus say his name. It threw him off a bit. He shrugged.

“Whatever you say, Romulus.”

Remus rolled his eyes.

“Are you always this childish?”

“Are you always this snobbish?”

“That answers that, I suppose.”

Sirius scowled. “And what’s that –”

“We’re here.”

Sirius stared, feeling quite put off. Remus ignored him. He entered a raggedy-looking coffee shop with peeling letters on its door. A bell rang somewhere inside.

Sirius hesitated to follow, but then Remus looked back at him, arching his eyebrow as if to ask, “Are you coming?”

He scoffed.

Predictably, the shop was almost empty. There was just a loud, pissed group over by the fireplace, an older couple talking in a shadowy corner, and some bloke asleep or dead in one of the armchairs.

“Nice place.”

Remus gave him a look.

They ordered up at the register. Remus was an iced mocha sort of bloke. Sirius got hot chocolate, a lone blueberry muffin, and some crisps. Remus raised his eyebrows at him. Sirius grinned.

When they got their orders, they found seats in a different shadowy corner, by bookshelves stocked with everything from _Don Quixote_ to _The Hot Body_. Remus caught him looking.

“They’re all donated,” he said. He took a sip of mocha. “A load of them are rubbish, but there are some good ones, if you look hard enough.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Remus didn’t miss the sarcasm in his voice. He gave him a look. Sirius smiled back. He took a bite out of his muffin, which wasn’t as stale as he thought it’d be, and looked around the dim café. It _was_ nice, in a grungy sort of way. The bookshelves had a nice aesthetic, as well as the fireplace, and the armchairs were comfortable, the felt just dark enough to hide the stains.

“How often do you come here?” he said.

“Pretty often, actually.” Remus looked around as well. “I’ve read just about every book here. Well, every one worth reading.”

“Big reader, then, are you?”

“You’re not?”

Sirius shrugged. “Never had a reason to be.”

“Do you need a reason to read?”

“Yeah.” Sirius drank some of his hot chocolate. It was delicious. “People do things for a reason, don’t they? Even if it’s a shitty one. Like trying to impress some bird.”

“All right. What sort of reason would you need, then?”

Oh, that was easy. But Sirius wasn’t trying to pull this bloke, this wasn’t a date. Not that he’d ever been on a date with a bloke, but he was pretty sure this wasn’t how things went. Middle of the night coffee shop talk with no shagging.

“I dunno, do I?” he said. “Haven’t come across it yet.”

“No girlfriend, then?”

“I’m not really the girlfriend type.”

“Of course you’re not.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “What about you?” he said. “I’m guessing not, seeing as how it’s a Friday night and you’re here with me.”

“I suppose I’m not the girlfriend type either.”

They looked at each other. Grinning, Sirius leaned forward on the table.

“You know, I was just being clever,” he said. “I’m actually into blokes.”

Remus just looked at him, weighing his words. Sirius didn’t move. Finally, he drank some of his mocha.

“Is this a date, then?” he said.

Sirius almost sagged with relief, then got a bit irritated. Why should it matter whether this bloke was alright with him being bent or not?

“Don’t worry,” Sirius said. He leaned back in his chair. “You’re not my type.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “What is your type?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

Sirius cocked his head. He looked over at the books again, scanning the colorful titles. Reaching over, he plucked one off the shelf.

“I prefer blokes who’d piss themselves the moment they saw a book like this,” he said.

He ran his fingers over the title. _Les Misérables_ by Victor Hugo. The book was so thick, he imagined it could count as a weapon, in the right circumstances. Just looking at it made him feel miserable.

“I rather liked that one.”

“And I could deal with a bit of cheek in a bloke, but that’s sort of my area of expertise.”

Remus gave him a wry smile. “Anything else?”

“He can’t talk too much, or get too invested. Those types are the worst. I don’t like it when they try to pry or make more out of a good fuck than what it is.”

“So, you like blokes who never talk back or ever have anything interesting to say,” Remus said. He licked his lips, tasting mocha. “A pillock, essentially.”

“A _fit_ pillock.”

Remus laughed. “I suppose I should take it as a compliment that I’m not your type, then.”

“I’ve been with some all right blokes.”

“If you say so.”

Sirius drank some more of his hot chocolate, finding himself smiling.

“What do you like, then?” he said. “The posh, bookish types?”

“Dunno if I have a ‘type’.”

Sirius waved this off. “Everyone has a type,” he said. He gestured towards himself. “I mean, would you date me? You know, if I was a bird.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I barely know you, Sirius.”

“Yes or no, Romulus.”

Remus leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “Then…no, I don’t think so.”

Sirius blinked. He didn’t think so?

“You just saying that because I’m bent?” he said.

“No. It’s because you’d rather fuck around than date.”

“I thought you weren’t the girlfriend type either?”

“I was also being clever.”

Remus’ eyes widened, as if he hadn’t really meant to say that. He blushed and looked off to the side, at the bookshelf. Sirius stared. It was his first time seeing the snarky bloke so embarrassed. He sort of liked it.

Sirius laughed. “So, is this actually a date or what?”

Meeting his eyes, Remus laughed too.  

They veered off towards other subjects, and after a while, Sirius realized he liked Remus. Not in the sense he’d love to shag the bloke, but more like he was unexpectedly funny and knowledgeable and just as easy to talk to as James.

They shared Sirius’ muffin and crisps and got refills for their drinks, all the while talking about nothing and everything. About the books Remus had read, including _Les Misérables_ , about Remus being home-schooled because his muggle mother, Hope, didn’t want him going off to Hogwarts, about Hogwarts, about James, Pete, Dumbledore, and Minnie.

“You call your professor _Minnie_?”

“She’s given up trying to dock points from me for it. I reckon she secretly likes it.”

Remus laughed and called him a true Gryffindor, which warmed Sirius more than his hot chocolate. Lyall was also a Gryffindor, which, Sirius declared, made Remus an honorary one. They commemorated the moment with a round of fresh coffee.

“Hogwarts is amazing,” Remus said, sipping at his new cup. “I visited in June to take my O.W.L.’s, and the castle’s even more incredible than I’d imagined.”

“You were there?”

“Yeah. Weird, isn’t it?”

“Really weird. We could’ve passed right by each other!”

“Too bad we’re not each other’s types,” Remus said. “Otherwise, we might’ve actually noticed one another.”

“Type or not, everyone notices me. You’re just daft.”

“You’re right. How could I have missed that big head of yours?”

Sirius laughed.

“How’d you do, by the way?” he said. “Are you as smart as you look?”

“Smarter.”

They talked about a few pranks the Marauders had managed to pull off over the years, they talked about different places Remus had visited and lived in. They talked, walked around the shop, drank coffee, talked some more, and the next thing they knew, light was creeping in through the windows. Sirius blinked at it with surprise.

“Merlin, how long have we been here?” he said.

The shop was empty but for them. Even the barista was nowhere to be seen.

Remus checked his watch.

“Fuck!” he said. He got up hurriedly, nearly toppling the table over. “My parents will be up any minute – fuck fuck fuck fuck…”

Remus glared at Sirius, who was doubled up in his chair, laughing.

“Don’t just sit there, you bloody wanker! Come on!”

Remus grabbed Sirius’ hand and pulled him out of his chair, out of the shop, still laughing, and they ran all the way back to Remus’ house. They were wheezing and panting by the time they got there. Sirius realized they were still holding hands as well, but in that instant, Remus let go.

“This is me,” he said.

“Yeah.”

Sirius straightened up, still breathing rather hard. He looked at the tree by Remus’ room.

“Wait,” he said. “Why’d I come here with you?”

Remus stared for a second, and then burst out laughing.


	3. The Marauders

“My favorite brand?”

“You must have one.”

Sirius took a long draw from his fag, blowing out audibly into the phone. He could almost hear Remus rolling his eyes.

“Player’s,” he said.

“You chose that for the name, didn’t you?”

Sirius smiled. “I did not. I happen to like the taste.”

“Which you found out after you bought it.”

Sirius shifted against the wall, tapping ashes into a bowl he’d taken from the kitchen.

“All right, the name might’ve caught my eye, but that’s not why I smoke it!”

“You smoke it because it’s cool, Sirius.”

Sirius smirked. “So, you think I’m cool?”

He was rolling his eyes again. “That’s not what I was getting at.”

“No, you think I’m cool.”

“I don’t.”

“So I’m not cool?”

“Sirius…”

Sirius opened his mouth to tease Remus some more when the door burst open. James bowled in, followed by Peter, the both of them looking mad with excitement.

“Padfoot, we’ve got it!” James said.

Sirius scowled. “Can’t you knock?”

“Can’t you go to your own room?” James said. He sat down next to Sirius, grinning, and Peter sat on his other side.

“You have to hear this,” Pete said.

“Later. I’m talking to Remus.”

“You can flirt with him all you want after,” James said. “This is important!”

Sirius looked at James. ‘Important’ wasn’t a word they just threw about, and James knew it.

“…How important?” he said.

“Like flooding the Slytherin dorms level important.”

Damn. Sirius sighed. He put the phone back by his ear.

“Listen, Remus, I’ll have to talk to you later.”

“That’s fine.” He sounded amused. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

Sirius felt himself heat up. He glanced at James and Peter, who looked back with raised eyebrows. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah.”

“All right. See you then.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Sirius put the phone back on the receiver. James looked at him.

“You’ve got a date with Remus?” he said.

Sirius scoffed. “It’s not a date. I told you, we’re friends.”

“But you said he’s gay,” said Peter.

“Wormtail, just because he likes blokes and I like blokes doesn’t mean we’ve got to shag each other.”

James shoved Sirius. “When were you gonna tell us, mate?”

“I don’t _have_ to tell you everything, James,” Sirius said, scowling.

James blinked. He looked taken aback, but he tried to laugh this off.

“Didn’t say you had to. But you did say we could come along next time you met up with him. I mean, Pete and I were all excited to meet this Remus bloke! Right, Pete?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. You’re always talking about him, Sirius. We got curious.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll introduce you next time, all right?”

James and Peter glanced at each other, but thankfully, they decided to drop it.

“All right,” Peter said, smiling.

James clapped him on the back. “Next time, yeah?”

Sirius smiled.

“Yeah,” he said. “Next time.”

He cleared his throat, snuffing out his fag in the bowl.

“So? What’s this thing you wanted to tell me?”

James rested his arm on Sirius’ shoulder, grinning that same manic grin he had on when they managed to turn all of Slytherin house, from its people to the common room, pink. Sirius felt a glimmer of familiar excitement.

“All right, so you know how we haven’t decided what our big prank will be this year?” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Well, we were just talking about it, and Wormtail here,” James said, tilting his chin towards Peter, “came up with something even _better_.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. He looked at Peter. “What does that mean?”

Peter hesitated. He was always more nervous to speak his mind to Sirius than James. It had always irritated him, but Sirius tried to reign this in as much as he could.

“A map, Padfoot,” Peter said. “Of Hogwarts.”

“What?”

James hit him on the arm. “Just imagine it, mate!” he said. “A map that shows every room and secret passageway at Hogwarts!”

Sirius took this in, and then he sat up straight, looking at James.

“A map that shows everything in Hogwarts? Absolutely everything?”

“Exactly!” James said. “There’s no one else who can pull it off but us!”

Sirius felt his blood pumping, the gears in his head working. “It can show all the staircases too,” he said, “which ones are moving, you know, and it’ll have to show how to get into hidden rooms…”

“Is that possible?” Peter said, his eyes wide.

Sirius grinned. “Anything’s possible, Wormtail! We’re the bloody Marauders, aren’t we?”

“The Marauders’ Map,” James said. “Got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it, lads?”

Sirius laughed.

“We’re bloody brilliant!”

 

“A map?”

Sirius looked over at Remus. They were ambling around a park, which was empty but for them. It was near one in the morning. Sirius had met Remus at his house again, under the tree. Again, he didn’t question the midnight rendezvous, or their plans for the night. Sirius just followed him, letting everything else melt away.

He smiled.

“Brilliant, isn’t it?” he said. “We’re the only ones who can pull it off. I reckon no one else knows as much about Hogwarts as we do.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Not even Dumbledore?”

“Not even Dumbledore.”

Remus rolled his eyes. He was wearing a cardigan today, unfortunately, but it wasn’t long enough to cover his surprisingly nice arse. Those tight jeans hugged him with purpose, and Sirius took his time checking out every curve as Remus climbed down the tree earlier. He knew the bloke had noticed.

Now, Sirius turned around to face Remus’ front, which wasn’t bad to look at either. He started walking backwards.

“You don’t believe me,” he said.

Remus’ lips twitched.

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”

Sirius grinned. “The thing you should know about the Marauders, Remus, is that we pride ourselves in achieving the impossible. Pretty much since day one.”

“But even if you did achieve this,” Remus said. “What’s the point? You’d already know where everything is.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows.

“Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?” he said. Sirius laughed at Remus’ look. Turning back around, he put an arm around him, smiling.

“As much fun as it’s been, we won’t be students forever,” he said. “Hogwarts will need other marauders to look after it once we’re gone, and the map will help them along. It’ll be our legacy!”

Remus rolled his eyes. He shrugged Sirius off. “Your legacy will be to aid future delinquents?” he said.

“Marauders, Remus,” Sirius scolded. “Not delinquents.”

“You’re a delinquent if I ever saw one, Black.”

Sirius hummed. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Actually, that doesn’t sound too bad,” he said. He grinned. “Makes me sound wicked cool, don’t you think?”

“I am not going to dignify that with a response.”

Sirius laughed. Remus glanced at Sirius.

“But I think if you’re going to put so much effort into a project like this,” he said. “You should really make it worth your while.”

Sirius looked over at him. “How do you mean?”

“I mean, a legacy is important.” Remus shrugged. “But it’d be better to create something you can make use of now, don’t you think?”

Remus’ lips curled up at the corners, and Sirius didn’t miss this. He bumped their shoulders, smiling.

“What are you thinking, Romulus?” he said.

Remus shot him a look.

“What if your map not only showed where things are, but also where _people in Hogwarts_ are?”

Sirius stopped walking. Remus stopped as well. The moonlit park held its breath as Sirius stared, unseeing, at a tree off to his left. Remus looked a bit worried for a second until Sirius turned to him, breaking out into a wide grin.

“Remus,” he said. “I could kiss you.”

Remus let out a soft sigh. He shook his head, laughing.

“Please don’t,” he said.

They started walking again on the uneven path. Sirius turned back around to face Remus.

“But really, you should meet my mates!” he said. “You’d love them – well, not as much as me, of course.”

“Of course.” Remus smiled. “Why don’t you bring them with you next time?”

“Same time, same place?”

“Of course.”

Sirius opened his mouth to say something when he tripped. He let out a decidedly uncool yelp of surprise, and he would’ve fallen, but Remus caught his arm at the last second. His grip on Sirius’ arm was bloody strong; he wouldn’t be surprised to see a bruise there tomorrow. Remus let go.

Sirius stepped back, resisting the urge to rub his arm. After a few seconds, he laughed. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Thanks, mate,” he said. “James would’ve torn the mickey out of me if he’d seen that.”

Remus glanced at him. “You think I won’t?”

“Nah, you wouldn’t do that to me, would you Remus?” Grinning, Sirius slung his arm back around Remus’ shoulders, ignoring his protests. “You did just save me, after all.”

Remus just rolled his eyes.

Sirius eventually took his arm back, and they meandered around for a few silent, comfortable minutes. Bits of gravel shifted under their feet as they walked. Cars drove by somewhere far away. Every now and then, a distant, faceless group yelled something unintelligible or laughed at some joke, and somewhere behind them, a car alarm went off.

Sirius glanced at Remus.

“Listen, can I ask you something?” he said.

“Depends on what it is.”

Sirius smiled. He looked at a couple trees in front of them.

“Why d’you always want to meet like this?” he said. “In the middle of the night and all that. Is it because of Lyall?”

“Lyall?”

“That’s your father’s name, isn’t it?”

Remus laughed. “Yes, but, usually people call him Mr. Lupin, or something.”

“That’s ridiculous. _You’re_ Mr. Lupin.”

“Since when have I ever been ‘Mr. Lupin’?”

“Since just now.”

“Please don’t.”

“Mr. Romulus Lupin.”

Remus elbowed him. “Stop calling me Romulus!”

“Then what should I call you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. _Remus_?”

Sirius waved this off. “Too boring.”

“And I suppose ‘Sirius’ is any better.”

Sirius waved this off too, thinking. He looked at Remus.

“You need a code name,” he said.

“A what?”

“All the Marauders have one! I’m Padfoot, for example.”

Remus gave him a look. “First of all, I’m not a Marauder.”

Sirius drew himself up, smiling. “As of now, you’re officially an honorary Marauder.” He stopped to tap both of Remus’ shoulders.

Remus shook his head.

“An honorary Gryffindor, an honorary Marauder,” he said. He gave a soft laugh. “You’re just full of titles, aren’t you?”

“And I’m about to give you one more. Let’s see…”

Sirius looked Remus up and down. Remus raised his eyebrows.

“Okay, now turn around.”

Remus crossed his arms, his lips curling up at the corners. Sirius looked back. He twirled his finger in a circle before crossing his arms as well, waiting.  Remus rolled his eyes, letting out a long-suffering sigh. He turned around.

Sirius couldn’t help but stare.

Remus might not have been his type, but damn did those jeans look good on him. They made his legs look longer, and his arse that much more…well, appetizing. For a brief second, he wondered what it would look like without the jeans on.

After a few seconds, he clapped his hands together.

“All right,” he said. “I’ve got it.”

Remus turned back around. He arched an eyebrow.

“Well?” he said.

Sirius threw out his arms, as if getting ready to hug Remus. With a wide grin, he said, “I present to you – Moony!”

Remus blinked. “Moony?”

“Yup!” Sirius said, feeling rather proud of this one. “You’re official new code name.”

Remus furrowed his brows.

“Why Moony?”

Sirius grinned. “It’s a secret.”

“Just tell me.”

Sirius shook his head. “Nope.”

“Come on, Sirius…”

Sirius took a step back. “I’m not telling!”

Remus came closer. “Sirius!”

He shook his head again, backing off faster.

“Moony!”

Remus followed.

“Padfoot!” he said.

Losing all pretense, Sirius ran, and Remus, laughing, went after him. A long time later, they collapsed under a large, grey tree, exhausted. Sirius tried to use Remus’ cardigan to wipe off his sweat; Remus tried to push him off, and laughing, chatting, they somehow passed the time there until day dawned, again, without their noticing.


End file.
